Go on any social media site, any platform and you’ll see them. Shiny, happy people smiling it up for the cameras. The sun is always shining on them. Nothing seems to reach them. No darkness, no despair. Only the sun and rainbows of life.
No one is perfect. No one is always, consistently happy. Those who are, are the innocent or the blissfully unaware. Maybe they’re lying to themselves, maybe they live in a bubble of delusional bliss. I won’t pop them out of it. What I would give to have that bubble of bliss!
You’ll rarely see a photo of me online. My pets, my children, and maybe my husband, yes, but rarely me. I hate taking selfies (though I will under certain circumstances), I dislike being seen. I’m a dichotomy of public and private. This blog is public, my Tik Tok, Instagram, Twitter and the like are all public, but I fear being singled out and fear even more being told how ugly, fat, whatever insult. It’s a bizarre head space. I love to share, I hate to be in the spotlight. I love to get tattoos and colourful hair, but hate being in the centre of attention.
What does that say about me? I honestly don’t know. I don’t even really know who I am after 48 years on this planet.
I do know that the sun doesn’t shine on me. At least, it seldom does. How I would love to be blissfully unaware and float through life on the rays of the sun.
Self-sabotage. I do it. I do it almost daily. I do it in my mental blocks. I do it in my self-loathing. I do it in my journey to health. I do it without consciously realizing I am doing it.
I keep hearing quips in my head. Little fragments of happy-go-lucky sayings that scratch at my brain, demanding attention. “You got this!”, “You can do it!”, “Baby steps!”, “One day at a time.” “Just keep swimming.” (Actually, I love that last one, Dory is awesome).
This past summer I have had more energy and drive than I have had in YEARS. I wish that was hyperbolic, but it is, unfortunately, not.
I’ve been cutting old death growth off of the trees around our property, cutting back overgrown bushes. Getting thorns stuck in my hands from old rose bushes. I’ve been cleaning up old growth and creating a fence of sorts from the old branches and growth (nothing garbaged, everything re-used of composted). I’ve felt more capable this year than – well, I don’t remember that.
Back at the end of June or start of July (brain fog, can’t remember when for sure), I fell off my deck. This wouldn’t be a huge deal, it’s only a foot tall. What is the big deal is that there was a big stump where I fell…and I hit is HARD with my left shin. I almost passed out.
Fast forward to almost 2 weeks ago. My left leg on the inside (anterior) beside the shin (tibia) starting hurting like hell. I decided to finally get it checked, especially since I still have bruising on my leg. I had injured my tibialis tendon – impact injury. It caused bad inflamation (seen on x-ray). I was told to rest, take anti-inflamatories.
Ok, not a bad thing…right? Wrong. I see the bariatric surgeon on the 23rd of this month to see if I am ready for gastric bypass surgery. My health issues make it hard to impossible to lose enough weight on my own – even with all the work I’ve done this summer, including walking our adorable pup, I have only managed to lose two pounds. In order to have gastric bypass you have to do certain things. One of those is NO NSAIDs, which are anti-inflamatories. Another – 30 minutes of exercise a day. The exact opposite of what the doctor said would heal my tendon.
On top of the anterior tibialis tendonitis, I also have tendonitis in my left elbow and my carpal tunnel in both hands has increased, most noticeably in my right.
What does all this mean? Fucked if I know. I feel like the universe is telling me to stay fat and I’m flipping the bird at the universe – even the constantly numb middle finger.
It’s like the powers that be are saying fuck you bitch – and I’m yelling back at them to BRING IT ON.
Have I sabotaged myself this time? Maybe. Personally, I would rather keep my energy going than lie down and absorb it all again. I don’t want to go gently into anything – I’m raging against it. I’m over all this pain and depression. It is constantly trying to suck me into that vortex of nothingness. The spiral of stagnation.
Am I going to keep this energy going? I honestly don’t know, but I’ll be damned if I don’t at least try.
Bonus – our baby girl is getting bigger…she’s 40 lbs at 5 months old. Sweet Dahlia – she’s a handful, but I love her snuggles and her.
“Pasta doesn’t make you fat. How much pasta you eat makes you fat.” – Giada De Laurentiis
I’ve got back…LOTS and lots of back. Too much really. I won’t give my measurements, but my BMI is 41.3. Yes, that is morbidly obese.
I’ve also got hope. LOTS and lots of hope.
Yes, I have tried pretty damn near every diet, plan, scam, etc out there. I’ve tried Slim Fast, I’ve tried It Works! (it doesn’t). I’ve tried being vegan, I’ve tried cutting back, keto, Atkins, exercise plans…oh my, I could go on and on. I won’t.
What I haven’t tried – surgery. I met the bariatric team on Friday and I have so much hope. I hope I qualify, I hope I can do this! No, I KNOW I can do this. I can learn to love loose skin, what I can’t learn to do is feel aches and pains and heavy breathing from activities others take for granted. Feeling weak and breathless after going up a flight of stairs to another floor is NOT ok. Even with MS, it isn’t. Painful knees and hips when walking is NOT ok. A back that tightens up from simple walking.
Struggling with self-image and being unable to keep up with my children is not ok. I want to swim with them, run with them, play with them. I want to hike with them. I want to garden and enjoy it as much physically as I do mentally.
I have hope. My backside will probably always be big, but it doesn’t need to be morbidly so. I’ll always have certain aches and pains from MS, but it doesn’t need to be from being fat.